


The Morning After the Night Before

by InimitableBiscuit



Series: Operation Roger Rogers [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bottom Brock Rumlow, Brock Rumlow is a ridiculous size queen, Dom Jack, Dom Steve Rogers, HYDRA Husbands, Hopeful Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Multi, Pancakes, Panic Attacks, Spit Roasting, Subdrop, Threesome - M/M/M, Truthbombs, Unrealistic Sex, because supersoldiers, filth with a frisson of plot, in this house we stan responsible aftercare, yep more pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22771675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InimitableBiscuit/pseuds/InimitableBiscuit
Summary: Part 2 of Operation Roger Rogers:Brock awoke slowly in his bed.“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty” rumbled the thing he was resting on.That wasnotJackie’s voice. Brock’s eyes snapped open,“Where’s Jack?”“Across the street fetching breakfast, I can see him from here” replied Steve becauseof course.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Jack Rollins, Steve Rogers/Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Operation Roger Rogers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631671
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	The Morning After the Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> TW: very vague mentions of abusive childhood.  
> TW: anxiety attack
> 
> Oh hello, what dis? Some sexy times? I do believe it is...

Brock awoke slowly in his bed. He’d had _such_ a weird dream last night; he’d dreamt that one of his, admittedly many, locker room fantasies had come true and then he and Jack had taken Cap home for round two. Hang on a tick, his ass and jaw felt pleasantly achy like he’d been used well. The mattress was warmer and more muscly than usual too... 

“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty” rumbled the thing he was resting on. 

What the fuck? That was _not_ Jackie’s voice. Brock’s eyes snapped open, the rest of his body tensing for flight. He was laid on the pale chest of a seriously ripped man and woah! _How_ had he fit _that_ inside him? No wonder even his belly button ached. He managed to croak out a question. 

“Where’s Jack?” 

“Across the street fetching breakfast, I can see him from here” replied Steve as he gazed out of the window. 

Because _of course_ he’d just spent the night being thoroughly dicked by Captain America with strangely enthusiastic consent from The World’s Most Jealous BoyfriendTM, that just totally lowered the level of surrealness of his life right now. 

“You been watchin’ me sleep like a creeper Cap?” 

The arm that had been laying loosely over Brock’s back suddenly tightened and dragged him upwards until his face was level with Steve’s. There was an unhappy set to the man’s face and when he spoke it was with a deep growl. 

“What did you call me?” 

The hand on his waist shook him a little, Brock tried to remember where he’d gone wrong; it was, it was... 

“Steve! Sorry, I meant Steve!” 

The jostling stopped and he was being kissed, hard and sloppy. Steve took and Brock just let him, opening his mouth to him in a way he’d only ever allowed Jack to experience before. As Steve’s tongue licked possessively into his mouth Brock found himself being lifted until he was straddling those stunning, pale abs. Both hands disappeared and Brock heard the snick of the lube cap before the hands returned, one on his hip, the other, cold and wet, probing at his stretched and sore ring. He let out a small cry as Steve shoved three fingers straight into his hole. There was a pause. 

“You good B?” 

Brock nodded desperately, he was a little sore but he wanted to get that super dick in him while he was himself, he couldn’t remember anything after getting jerked off in the locker room shower yesterday so he must have been floating for hours. 

Steve moved his lube covered hand away and the slick noise of Cap stroking his own dick went straight to Brock’s libido. He needed to be fucked _now_. He sat back slowly, allowing Steve’s hand to maneuver him so his ass was, at last, resting against the wet head of Steve’s dick. 

He pushed down and it popped inside to the sound of their matching groans. Steve held onto both of Brock’s hips to keep him moving steadily downwards until he was sat against Steve’s groin. All Brock could do was hang on; he wasn’t sure he could breathe, Steve’s dick seemed to have claimed all the space inside him. 

“Jack’ll be home in a couple minutes, want to give him a show?” 

Brock simply grunted in stunned acquiescence. How the fuck was Steve’s voice still steady? Brock’s ass must be squeezing him like a vice. His only warning was a: 

“Hold on tight” 

And Steve sat up, twisted them ninety degrees, dropped his legs over the side of the bed before standing without a grunt of effort. It was all Brock could do to cling onto the man’s shoulders as Cap strode into the living area still balls deep in him. Each step jolted something deep inside of him so that Brock was reduced to making little ‘ _ah_ ’ sounds every time Steve placed his foot on the floor, his own dick was starting to rub damp smears across Steve’s belly. 

“Reckon the table’ll hold up if I put you over it?” 

Brock didn’t even to think before shaking his head vehemently; the previous incarnation of the kitchen table had had a horrible, sex-based demise and he did not believe for a moment that primo IKEA quality would stand up to a super boning. Steve chuckled. Brock felt the rumble against his chest. 

“No? The counter maybe? Hmmm but then spit-roasting you would be out. The floor? Couch’s too small.” 

Steve’s musing fell into silence and it took Brock two attempts to give a response, the dick in his ass was really, very distracting. 

“Tuh...turn me round and stand me in...re-each of the counter. Ja. Jackie can sit on it.” 

Steve gave him a genuine grin. 

“Great thinking.” 

He said, lifting Brock off him and spinning him one hundred and eighty degrees before setting him back on unsteady feet, holding him up firmly with both hands. Steve swiftly re-entered and started fucking him hard, forcing Brock to hold tightly onto the counter-top now in front of him to avoid being crushed against it. Embarrassing, mewing noises dropped from his lips, his dick was hard enough to cut diamonds but there was no way to get a hand to himself without face-planting the counter and Steve seemed more intent on giving Brock hand-shaped bruises on both hips than helping him out. The door clicked shut and keys jangled in the bowl. 

“You gonna come join us or just admire the view hot stuff?” 

_Curse you Steve_ thought Brock, why was he _still_ not out of breath despite the way he was pistoning in and out of Brock's ass? Eh, might as well enjoy the ride. Booted steps sounded on the linoleum to his right, Brock turned his head to find Jack standing there, shopping bag forgotten in his arms, face alight with jealousy and want. Steve gentled his pace as soon as Brock wiggled a little. 

“There’s room for. One more. Right here.” 

He gasped, patting the counter in front of him. Jack glared for a second in surprise? Lust? Then unceremoniously dumped the grocery bag in the sink. Unbuttoning his jeans, he stepped toward Brock and Steve with purpose. 

Brock ended up sandwiched between the two huge men _Fucked at both ends_ he thought deliriously as he drooled helplessly around Jack’s beast of a dick while Steve speared him from behind with that oh-so-pretty monster. They fucked him until his legs gave out and it was only Steve's grip on his hips that was keeping him upright. His throat convulsed around Jack's dick every time Steve brushed against his prostate. Jack was close, Brock could tell by the change in cadence of the moans, clearly Steve could too because a hand _finally_ left Brock’s hip and reached around to touch his dick. 

“So good for me, both of you” gasped Steve. 

The breathy quality of Steve’s voice combined with the calloused hand on his dick made Brock come instantly, the vibrations from his moan setting off Jack and the clenching of his ass forced Steve to thrust three more times before spilling in a warm rush inside Brock. 

He felt filthy, rung out and kind of wanting more. He gently sucked on Jack until he was soft and pulling Brock upwards for a possessive kiss. They kissed open-mouthed, Brock felt Steve withdraw, forcing his ass hole to clench at empty air. Brock whimpered into Jack’s mouth as he waved a hand behind himself and grabbed one of Steve’s arms to prevent him from leaving. He was rewarded with a dirty chuckle and Steve’s body pressing into his sweaty, naked back, the hard, wet dick rubbing against his spine a tangible reminder of what they had just done. Brock felt lips brush the side of his head and then his mouth was tasting air as he was crushed between the other two men feverishly kissing over his shoulder. He took the chance to just inflate his lungs fully for the first time since he’d woken up, listening peacefully to the sound of slick lips moving together as he rested against Jack’s chest. 

“Mmm, hungry” He murmured just as his stomach rumbled audibly. 

Jack and Steve stopped kissing and laughed, both turning to him. Jack grinned 

“Okay honey, you did so good for us last night. Steve’s gonna clean you up whilst I make pancakes” 

“Betty Crocker?” 

Brock kind of hated how his voice got so whiny but he needed to know that breakfast would be _right_. 

“’Course honey, nothing less for you” replied Jack calmly. 

Steve pulled him back so Jack could stand up from the counter and re-button his fly. Jack kissed Brock one last time before waving them off and turning back to the groceries in the sink. 

Brock remained in a kind of stunned silence as Steve tugged him by the hand through the apartment to the bathroom. Steve turned on the shower and wordlessly offered him first use of the can, he shook his head, he did need to go but he had other things on his mind. Steve shrugged and pissed straight into the bowl, never minding that Brock was _right there_. Wow, Steve was clearly still more influenced from his time serving than either Brock or Jack were anymore. His mind was still reeling that Cap was Hydra and that he was slutty as hell, he must have dommed the shit out of Brock last night. Brock wavered a little and Steve caught him. 

“Hey B, you okay?” There was a note of concern evident in Steve’s voice. 

“Uhh, yeah?” he replied unsurely. 

Holy crap, had he deep-throated the Hulk whilst in subspace? Was that even his voice? He flinched a little as strong hands came around him and he realized that he’d spaced out again. 

“C’mon, let’s get you washed up before pancakes huh?” 

He felt himself lifted into the bath and held upright as the shower spray flowed over him. Steve kept up a steady stream of praise and Brock let it soothe his ragged thoughts like balm. Steve managed to get them both clean and toweled dry before Brock was able to talk again. He immediately blurted out his first concern. 

“Jackie’s really okay with this?” 

“Yeah B, he really is. The big question is: Are you okay with this being a thing?” 

Brock’s brain stuttered again for a moment. Being a thing? Like, more than once? 

_Hells yeah!_ Screamed his inner twink. 

But would they really work as a trio long-term? 

_Shut up rational brain, no-one asked you._

Brock gave up on the internal arguments to look Steve full in the face. He nodded determinedly. 

“I gotta process, but, yeah, I think so” 

He was treated to that million-watt sunbeam smile again, he was pretty sure in made Steve’s hair glow brighter for a second there. Steve kissed him, quick and fierce. 

“You take a piss while I get some clothes out” 

* 

They made it back to the kitchen in sweats and one of Jack’s tee’s each just as Jack was stacking fat pancakes on the three plates that he’d laid out on the table; there was a bowl of blueberries, another of chopped strawberries, home-made chocolate cream sauce in Jack’s grandma’s jug and, was that? Brock did a tiny double-take, there was even some of the real Canadian maple syrup Jack usually only served at Mardis Gras and Thanksgiving. 

“Sit down honey before you fall down” said Jack as he carried the 8-cup french press over to place next to the carton of unsweetened OJ. 

“He okay?” Jack asked Steve while Brock slowly made his way over to the middle place setting on shaky legs. 

“Dropped a little but I got him out of it. He’s mostly just processing” Steve replied. 

Brock couldn’t work out if he was annoyed by being talked about or relieved that he didn’t have to contribute to the conversation so he ignored them and focused on sitting down carefully onto the donut ring cushion Jack had placed on his chair. It had originally been for when Jack got shot in the ass but had proven invaluable for alleviating pressure after a particularly heavy session such as last night. And this morning. 

The niggling thought that had been swirling round his head since he awoke to find himself lying half on top of the man out of time came to the fore again. Brock glanced beseechingly at Jack. 

“Can I tell him now?” 

Jack frowned, clearly catching on to Brock’s thoughts straight away. 

“After we’re done with breakfast” 

His tone brooked no arguments so Brock tried to concentrate on seeing how much chocolate cream sauce he could pour on his strawberry smothered pancake stack before Jack took the jug away from him when he stopped being distracted by attempting a silent argument with Steve over Brock’s head ~~it was _a lot_~~. 

The thought bounced about all the while Brock ate his fill and drank his coffee. It burst out as soon as he pushed his plate and mug away. 

“Bucky Barnes is still alive and we know where he is” 

The words poured from his mouth with no help from him. There were twin gasps, a clatter, a spray of liquid flew across the table and a terrible gargling wheezing filled the room; Jack had clearly been caught mid-sip and inhaled a mouthful of coffee. Brock poured him a fresh glass of juice and handed it over once the choking had mostly died down. Once Jack was breathing again, Brock finally braved looking at Cap to find the man still as a statue, Steve was pale, Brock couldn’t see any evidence of breathing happening, the octopus mug that Barclay had given them last Christmas was laying on the empty plate in a puddle of coffee and Steve’s expression was stricken. 

“Couch now, take Steve” wheezed Jack. 

Brock obeyed, pulling the silent man with him to the sitting area and pushing him gently down into the center of the couch before sitting next to him. They waited in silence for five minutes listening to Jack quietly and efficiently tidying the kitchen. Steve seemed to mostly be concentrating on breathing slowly, a fine tremor running through his body that Brock could feel where their thighs and shoulders pressed together. 

The sound of footsteps indicated Jack moving into the living area. Brock didn’t dare look up as he felt Jack sit heavily on the couch on the other side of Steve. He knew that he’d fucked up, he was starting to drop in anticipation of being punished, childhood experience rearing its ugly head, even though it was rare occurrence that Jack even _thought_ about punishing him. 

“Ask what you want, there’s no bugs here” Jack said calmly to Steve, pulling the shocked blond into a sideways hug. Brock held his breath. Steve blew a shuddering exhale through his nose then spoke. 

“Clarify please Brock” 

Fuh-uhck. Where should he even start? Brock couldn’t think. Why didn’t Steve ask Jack? Oh, duh, because he was the one that’d blurted it. No, no, no, he couldn’t tell him the full extent, could he? Pierce would kill them. Eh, Pierce was as good as dead anyway right? 

A hand caught his where it was clenching hard into the meat of his thigh. He looked up to find Steve settled back against Jack and pulling Brock towards them in order to settle his face against Steve’s chest. 

“Tell me, _please_ ” whispered Steve. Brock’s mind calmed a little more. 

He nodded, one stubble roughened cheek rubbing against the well-muscled chest and proceeded to spill his guts about the way he’d recognized James Barnes’ face in the Winter Soldier; how Pierce treated him like a dolly to take out and play with before stuffing back into the box; that they knew where the D.C. Hydra base was that Barnes was being kept in. 

The hand that had been loosely sat on his waist when he started talking slowly clenched tighter and tighter until it was making Brock’s whole side ache. A gasping sob made him check Steve’s face, the angle was bad but he could still see fat tears rolling slowly out of closed eyes. He could also see Jack glaring murderously straight at him over Steve’s shoulder while gently stroking the honey blond hair, it was a strange juxtaposition. Brock sighed, nuzzling against Steve’s pec and running a hand down the man’s side. 

“We’ll help you save him but we’ve gotta get a plan together first, ‘kay?” 

A soggy exhale and then came a small: 

“Yeah, ‘kay” 

Steve finally seemed to realize how tight he was holding Brock and relaxed his grip with a muttered _sorry_. Brock exhaled in relief, cuddling harder against him, then reached out to the box on the coffee table and passed up a tissue. Steve choked watery thanks and cleaned his face off. 

They stayed curled up together until Steve was composed enough to start getting restless and announced that he needed to go for a run then pick up some clothes from his apartment before coming back. Brock reluctantly sat up, releasing the man from their contact. He kept himself tucked on the extreme end of the couch away from Jack, trying to keep his swirling emotions under control; Steve _seemed_ okay, he was going to come find them again but Brock had said a _bad thing_ and he’d disobeyed a direct order from Jackie. Brock could feel himself starting to spiral – his breathing and heart rate picked up as his listened to the murmur of Jack and Steve conversing just out of earshot. He missed the door clicking shut and the quick footsteps crossing the floor towards him. Brock flinched at the sudden weight of a broad hand laid across his shoulder blades. 

“Breathe for me honey” came Jack’s voice soothingly from above his head. Brock tried to focus on Jack’s hand and his measured breaths. Slowly, very slowly, Brock came back to himself and Jack was right there on the couch next to him. 

“Well done honey” 

Jack pulled him into a gentle embrace and Brock went willingly, clutching at Jack’s shirt like a damsel in distress. 

“Please don’t hurt me” he whispered. 

Jack pulled back a little and caught hold of his chin, forcing him to look directly at the taller man. 

“We agreed no pain _ever_ for punishment Brock, you are safe here. Adding Steve to us is not going to change that.” said Jack determinedly. “Me and Steve have decided on your punishment; next time we fuck you will only be permitted to watch us, no touching us or yourself. Do you accept honey?” 

Brock tilted his head to one side to mull it over with his eyes closed. 

Cons: missing out on filthy fun; being punished; knowing he’d failed. 

Pros: no pain inflicted; getting to watch two super-hot guys together without him sandwiched in the middle. 

Deciding that the punishment would be over ASAP, Brock thought he could totally deal with it. He nodded. 

“Okay”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes Jack's nickname for Brock is honey short for Honey Bee (or Honey Badger depending on how cranky he's being). Steve has picked up on this and calls him B for Honey Bee or B for Brock.
> 
> There may be a third part with some actual plot (whaaatt?) but no promises.
> 
> Thanks for reading you beautiful humans.


End file.
